


The Good Life

by missmollyetc



Category: Alice (TV 2009)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 01:03:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8869711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmollyetc/pseuds/missmollyetc
Summary: Show Hatter an Oyster, and he'll make you an opportunity.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elliebells](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliebells/gifts).



The world beyond was an upside down place, but Hatter couldn’t say it didn’t suit him. It was a bit shinier than he’d imagined, if he was being honest, which he tried to avoid unless strictly necessary, and the fashions lacked a bit of style, but it wasn’t anything Hatter couldn’t get used to. The first couple of weeks after he’d ‘lost’ the construction job he’d never had, Alice had destroyed two of her own practice dummies with worry, but she’d calmed down when that position had opened up at her beating people up school. Hadn’t even taken much more than a little word in edgewise with the fluff she’d had taking her messages, and off the little man had popped to focus on his dancing dreams, leaving Hatter with a sudden opportunity.

_Oysters_. Hatter had always loved Oysters. Wonderful things—er, people. Wonderful people with all their squidgy expensive emotions leaking all over the place. Man could make a fortune if he wasn’t too picky about where he juiced the goods.

Of course, if you _were_ picky, well, it hadn't really been the life of ease and splendor his parents had made a career in business appear before he’d taken over. Stocking up the bottles on a lazy night after the latest batch of Success had come in took on a less rosy sheen when you knew where that lovely whiff of bravado had drained from. Rebelling wasn’t too rosy either, now he came to think of it, since it seemed to involve very little dashing adventure and far too much standing around on street corners counting the oyster boxes as they flew overhead. It'd been enough to make a man reach for the inky blue bottle of Satisfaction Hatter had definitely not sampled. Well, just the once. Maybe twice, but it was a poor proprietor who didn’t know his own wares, and, if nothing else, Hatter had been a good businessman. If the poor sods hadn’t been able to tell real satisfaction from bottled, it was all the same in the end.

And now here he was, gainfully employed by the most stubborn woman in two worlds, where he could maximize his time as a vital member of her business by watching her toss Oysters—er, students—over her supple shoulders like they were empty candy wrappers. Hatter sighed, took off his hat, and held it against his chest. God, she was beautiful when she yelled. It reminded him of their first date, running from the Queen’s guards, with Alice soaking wet and radiating angry confusion like—well, like no one Hatter had known in years. _Two_ emotions at once, and it hadn’t even been an Underland Day sale! Even his own blessed mother had gone to the bottled stuff by the time she’d retired to the Tulgey Wood Meadows, as thin and grey as the rest of the mugs in the shop.

Behind the window, Alice glanced up from where she was straddling some poor bastard with her hands wrapped in his gi, and saw him. She grinned and tossed her long brown ponytail over her shoulder. Hatter bowed, ducking his head, and glanced up just in time to see her rock forward and then onto her back, sending her student head over feet again in an overhead tumble. The man collapsed in a puff of dust on the mat, and Hatter couldn’t stop himself from beaming. Aces, but no one beat a man when he was down like Alice.

She rolled to the side and then to her feet. Alice’s class lined up in a row, shuffling apart by an arm’s length. They all bowed to each other, and Alice put her hands on her hips. She spoke to them, laughing a little, and Hatter couldn’t hear what she was saying, but the curve of her lips made him bounce on the balls of his feet. Alice looked over, and when she smiled the corners of her eyes crinkled. Hatter waggled his eyebrows and tipped his hat. 

Alice raised an eyebrow and Hatter held up the little notebook he kept her phone messages in. He waved the pad in the air, and Janine, a tall woman with a rounded puffball of black curls, said something to Alice. Alice laughed and turned back to her class. She clapped her hands and held them together as she spoke. 

Hatter turned around, put his back to the large picture window, and leaned against the wooden frame. Alice’s class was all right for Oysters—ordinary people, but they were just cards. Alice was the whole bloody deck. 

He blew air up to his fringe and crossed his arms. The door to her classroom opened. Hatter looked up, smiled, and stood away from the window.

“Looking good, looking _very_ good, everyone,” he said as they passed by. “Tanya, Nasir, I swear in two weeks you’ll be off the floor and slinging folk around like a knave with a hot tart.”

“Hey,” Alice said behind him. “What did I say about the tart comparisons?”

Hatter swiveled on his heels and spread his arms out to his sides. He put his hat back on his head. “That…I’m the only tart you want to heat up?”

Alice groaned, letting her head fall back as she rolled her eyes, but she stepped forward and into his reach. She slung her arms around Hatter’s waist, and leaned against him. She smelled sweaty and she felt damp through the rough cotton of her uniform. The strands of her hair that’d come loose from her ponytail stuck to his skin. Hatter grinned and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. He waved as Alice’s group continued to walk by, shaking their heads and nattering on in that quick punchy way Oysters talked to each other.

“How come you walked up from the office?” she asked into his shirt. The thin point of her nose pressed just about his collar. “You hate the stairs.”

“Ah, but I love being the bearer of good news,” Hatter said, and tapped the message pad on her lower back. He peeked over her shoulder—such a lovely shapely view.

Alice’s arms tightened. And tightened. And again. Hatter squeaked.

“Is my class gone?” Alice asked, in that slow warning way she had that reminded Hatter of the best parts of drinking Discipline that one night he had to pass his Cup Levels in school.

Hatter shivered. “Like they were late for tea time,” he said.

Alice kissed his neck. “What was the message you wanted to show me?”

The notepad hit the floor with a thwap of its pages. “Uh…” Hatter shook his head slowly. “Private lessons?” he guessed.

He widened his stance, and Alice, sweet, lovely, compact Alice, with all her muscles and cleverness, swept his legs. She took him down gently, with just enough oomph at the end for him to enjoy the trip to the floor, and leaned over him with her weight on her hands. His hat fell off. He stared up at her and licked his lips. Alice grinned. 

“Well, if you insist,” she said.


End file.
